A Nantucket Wedding(72)

“Alison! Hello. Don’t be afraid. I had to bring the boys to work today because they’ve got their annual vet exams at two and I didn’t want to have to drive all the way home when the vet’s place is so near here. Go on, pet them, they love it.”

    “Hello, gorgeous,” Alison said, petting the black Lab while the yellow Lab pushed at her hand for equal attention. “Noble heads.”

Heather absolutely beamed. “Yes. They’re English Labs. Charlie is the black and Henry the yellow. They’re littermates, but they have completely different personalities —Henry is dominant, serious, and protective. Charlie is the mischievous and outgoing one.” Heather squatted on her very high heels and nuzzled the dogs.

“They’re wonderful,” Alison said, trying not to look too amused. This was as effusive and friendly as Heather had ever been.

“Yes, they are, aren’t they? They were named after the whale ship Charles and Henry on which Herman Melville sailed in 1842. They love to run and they’re great swimmers.”

“Perfect for Nantucket.”

“True. Cecil and I have been taking them down every weekend. Of course, that’s made it easier for me to coordinate the wedding with Brie at the Wauwinet. Which reminds me, that’s why you’re here.” Effortlessly, Heather rose.

She must do yoga, Alison thought.

“Let’s go in to David’s office.”

Alison followed Heather as they went through her office with its three walls of windows and one wall of mahogany. They stepped inside David’s office, which was large, thickly carpeted, and beautifully furnished. Charlie and Henry came along, quietly settling in a far corner.

“Hello, Alison.” David rose from behind his desk.

“Oops! I forgot to bring the folder,” Heather said and left the room.

This allowed David a moment to give Alison a kiss. The dogs thumped their tails approvingly.

“She forgot the folder on purpose, didn’t she?” Alison whispered, smiling.

“I’m sure she did. She is the perfect assistant.” With his hand on her shoulder, David led Alison to the leather sofa.

Heather returned with the folders, one for each of them. “Before we begin, does anyone want coffee? Sparkling water?” She indicated a table in the corner with a coffee maker, handsome china cups and saucers, a cut glass pitcher of ice water, and glasses.

    David and Alison both asked for coffee. Heather brought them their cups and finally settled, perching on the edge of a chair, as if ready to take off any moment.

“Very well, here we go,” Heather said. “Your wedding is Saturday, September ninth, three weeks away. I mailed out the invitations a week ago and already we’ve had some replies. I have the guest list here and I’m checking people on or off accordingly.” Heather glanced up, smiling. “So far, no regrets. I’m sure people can’t wait to attend this wedding!”

Alison quickly scanned the pages in the folder. Heather had locked in Katie Kaizer for photographer and videographer. She’d ordered and arranged forty welcome baskets, made to look like woven Nantucket lightship baskets, filled with notepads and matching pens in ocean blues, sterling silver “white whale” wine-bottle stoppers, miniature wooden sailboats filled with chocolate-covered cranberries, silver compasses with lids, and picture frames embossed with silver shells.

“The guests’ gifts are marvelous, Heather,” Alison said.

Heather beamed. “I thought you’d like them. Now. Offshore Tents will arrive on Friday to set up the tents. Because they will be set on grass, they’ll use pole tents, which can provide a more romantic look, swooping up to peaks with flying banners. Very King Arthur. They helped me figure out how much square footage we’ll need based on the number of guests, how many guests we think will dance, the number of persons in the band, and so on.” She leaned forward to show David the charts.

Alison took a moment to close her eyes. She knew David wanted a great party, but if she had had to work with such numbers and graphs, she’d lose her mind. She took out her phone and tapped in a note to herself to buy something very special for Heather.

“Brie has typed up a mock program for your wedding. You both were going to decide on the processional music you’d like played, and also, I need you to go over the ceremony with me. You can take this home and make your decisions and email me. I’ll want to have it finalized within a week so I can have a program printed. Now, I need to be absolutely sure about this. You want the ceremony inside the tent, right?”

    “Yes,” Alison answered. “That way, I won’t be fretting constantly about whether or not it’s going to rain, or worse, blow the way it did last September when hurricanes down south made the Nantucket winds powerful.” Also, Alison thought with a smile, she wanted to marry in the tent because it would have a floor, and she could wear her high heels and show off her great legs and not worry about sinking into the grass or sand.

“Great. Got it. Okay, if the weather’s good, everyone can go outside after the ceremony where tables of canapés will be set up on the lawn and waiters will have trays of champagne. If the weather’s bad, the after party could be held in the hotel’s library while round tables and chairs are set up in the tent for the dinner.”

“What about live music for the reception?” David asked.